


Playing Dirty

by the_intrepid_poet16



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:08:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_intrepid_poet16/pseuds/the_intrepid_poet16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little Zevris drabble. Fenris gets himself into a sticky situation and Zevran comes to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Dirty

Fenris wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in that room. He’d woken up some time agao to find himself bound and gagged. Slavers, no doubt. His memory returned, bringing with it images of a deadly fight. He and Zevran had been overrun. He remembered telling the other elf to run, and then nothing. Fenris tried not to think about what happened to the Crow. Zevran was skilled, yes, but against so many?

The elf had struggled vainly to untie himself. His only success was making the knots tighter. Fenris was on his stomach now, waiting for whatever would come. He perked up when he heard the sounds of blades striking blades. Cries filled the room from those who fell to those who called out a challenge. He thought one such cry sounded familiar, but the voices mixed too much. Before long, there was only silence. 

Fenris waited and waited. The silence grew. Then there was a soft click and the door opened. Sitting up now, Fenris sighed in relief when Zevran stepped through, though the sound was muffled by the gag. 

“Ah, my dear Fenris! Did you miss me?” Fenris rolled his eyes. The assassin only chuckled. Zevran crouched in front of Fenris. For a split second, Fenris saw relief in those hazel eyes before they regained their usual mischief. The assassin’s hands laid Fenris down and rolled him over on to his stomach. Fenris’ initial relief turned to confusion as Zevran straddled his hips. He squirmed, the gag turning his question into a muffled groan. 

“Don’t fuss. I’ll have you untied soon,” Zev scolded, “As tight as these cords are, one wrong movement and those wonderful feet of yours will pop right off! I’ve seen it happen many, many times and it is not a pleasant experience.” The Antivan elf ignored Fenris’ growl and set to work. He took his dear sweet time about it. Fenris felt those deft fingers pull and tug at the cords. Those hands also ghosted over his skin, and Fenris stubbornly ignored the tingling sensation that came with it. No. He was not going to enjoy this. He was going to kill Zevran later.

The cord loosened and slipped off of Fenris’ ankles. He went to move his legs, but they were immediately pinned down by Zevran. “Ah ah. Don’t move just yet, you impatient man. Who knows how long you’ve been tied up like this? Those poor muscles of yours must be cramped. Wouldn’t want to make it worse, would we?” 

He had been moving around before, but even without the gag Fenris doubted Zevran would listen. So, he sighed as Zev’s fingers began rubbing up and down his calves and thighs. Despite himself, Fenris’ eyes began to droop shut. He shook himself as Zevran switched positions, facing forward now. The elf began the same process on Fenris’ wrists.  
At first, Fenris was content to just lay there with his eyes shut and take it. Then he felt Zevran’s hips grind against his backside. Fenris’ eyes shot open. He turned his face sideways and stared at Zevran. The former Crow didn’t seem to notice at all. Perhaps it was merely an accident? Fenris slowly laid his head down again. A few seconds went by without another incident and Fenris relaxed. 

Zevran’s hips grind down more forcefully, and Fenris was very glad the gag muffled his surprise moan. Fenris growled and brought the heel of his foot up to kick Zev right in the ass. The other elf laughed. Soon, the cords were removed from his wrists. Zevran began rubbing Fenris’ arms down. Depsite his previous ire, the lyrium-marked elf enjoyed the touches. Zev knew how to touch him without causing him pain. His fingers knew exactly how to avoid the markings. It was a talent Fenris could never be more grateful for. He let himself relax again and shut his eyes with a sigh.

He expected to feel fingers on the back of his head. Instead, something softer worked at the gag. Zevran doesn’t offer any excuse as to why he was using his lips to untie the knot. Occassionally, Fenris felt teeth or a tongue on his scalp. He couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it, but he thought Zevran was making this too easy.

Before the elf can remove the gag, Fenris bit down on the cloth. He felt Zevran tug on it. Then the assassin rolled him over. The curious expression on his face melted with a raised brow. Fenris smirked a challenge, one that Zevran met with gusto. Lips locked in a fierce duel. Zevran’s tongue slid along Fenris’ lips, seeking a way in. Fenris’ hand tangled in Zev’s hair, sometimes pulling his head away when he came too close. Zevran would nip and bite at Fenris’ lips and jaw, trying to get him to loosen up. All the while, Fenris distracted Zevran with his own kisses or by groping at other body parts below the belt.

The battle was long, but Zevran claimed victory by drawing a delicate finger over Fenris’ ear. In the span of the gasp, Zev’s tongue darted into the elf’s mouth, claiming the gag. The Antivan sat up straight, a victorious grin on his lips. 

“You cheated,” Fenris accused, slipping his arms around Zevran’s waist. 

Zevran tossed the cloth aside and slid down on Fenris’ chest. “You should know by now, my sweet,” his honeyed voice purred, “We assassin’s never play fair.” Fenris smirked and quickly reached up to nip Zevran’s ear. He savored the little yelp it caused.

“And we warriors love to play dirty.”


End file.
